Tonks in a tight red shirt
by MysteriWriter07
Summary: Angst! Angst! Angst! Angsty monologues and mediocre writing. :P  Reviews welcome! Younger HP generation Hermione, Ginny, Ron, etc.
1. Tonk's tight shirt

Hermione stared at Tonks for the fourth time that day. She had come down to the kitchen of Grimmauld place with absolutely no intention of seeing Tonks there. Lupin was down as well, eating breakfast and looking, puzzled, at the ever-changing squares in the crossword of the Daily Prophet.

Hermione looked from one to the other, not sure why they would be there at the same time. Was this universe's way of punishing her for saying 'no' to Ron? Showing her the two people she wanted most, and who were coincidentally, probably together?

Lupin was who she truly had a schoolgirl crush on. She had read all about the way he should make her feel; heat beating faster, nervous butterflies invading the area where her internal organs used to be, her palms sweating a little and her stomach ever flip-flopping at whenever he looked at her or, earth-shatteringly, smiled.

However, looking at him, admiring his soft-spoken manner and kind words, his ever-tattered suits and pants, and his awe-inducing side-smiles, the most she could do was wish, strongly and legitimately wish, that what she just described was actually what was happening.

And then, in a moment, it did. Tonks, wearing a tight blue shirt and red jean pants, paired with a green cord jacket and straight, short purple hair that somehow pulled the look together, looked up and smiled at Hermione. "Wotcha, Hermione, up at last?" Hermione struggled for words, trying to put coherently that yes, she was indeed up. Yes, far as she could tell, but.. well, how was she going to put that answer into a perfectly phrased version of 'yes' to answer to Tonk's perfectly phrased greeting? Tonks was wearing purple lipstick today, too, which Hermione had never seen before but made a mental note of. All and all, she was very distracted and managed a feeble, 'yeah', before sinking down into the seat across from Tonks. Remus looked up at Hermione and smiled in way of greeting, which she returned, and then went back to his paper.

It's not as if she had formulated on her own how a 'crush' on some one ought to feel. She had, as with most of her knowledge, procured the description of wonderfully scary feelings from a book, the most romantic book she had ever read, by a young witch in Wales who wrote of characters doing simple things- going on a first date, kissing, just talking, but describing it all with startling accuracy so that one actually felt they were falling for one of the characters. That book taught her what a first date should be like, and how she wanted to be kissed, but it brought with it a starting realization; she identified these feelings to how she reacted to Tonks. Picturing Lupin or Sirius all the while, as they were her prime exposure to young attractive males, she had thought of them but felt for Tonks. Which was confusing, because she only really ever wanted to be taken on a first date, or kissed, or just talked to, by a man liked Lupin, from the book she had read. But as far as the actual looking at someone and having her stomach flip-flop, or forgetting to breathe, or being unable to formulate coherent words (which was a first for Hermione), it was Tonks all the way. She sighed and began to eat her breakfast, staring at Lupin and willing nervousness all the while.


	2. Remus, up all night

'Tonks' Chapter 2-

Remus descended the stairs, tired and more than a bit haggard. Ginny looked on sympathetically, knowing he had just suffered through yet another full moon.

"Evening, Remus." She forced a smile at him.

"Hello, Ginny," he responded, putting the forcedness of her smile to shame. "You're up late, aren't you?"

"You're the one who slept all day," she raised her eyebrows at him in concern.

"Yes, but I transformed into a vicious mystical creature last night. Your excuse, whatever it may be, is nothing like mine." Now he actually smiled.

"I was just doing some light reading before bed," she said, gesturing to a gargantuan textbook on her right, next to her emptied hot chocolate cup.

"Light?" He exclaimed, "You've been spending _much_ too much time with Hermione this holiday, Ginny!"

She laughed, happy that she had probably been the first to make him smile all day. The thought made her ridiculously warm, and sort of nervous.

"Which reminds me, do you lot need anything else before school starts back again? I'm heading for Diagon Alley day after tomorrow anyway, so I though I might escort you all."

Ginny groaned inwardly, but tried to respond politely. "No, not I, but Hermione probably wants loads more books and Ron needs something for Scabbers. Ask them tomorrow."

"Ok," he said absent-mindedly, reaching for more hot chocolate off the shelf, and setting to make it.

Just when they have been conversing alone, for probably the second time all holiday, he had to remind her. They had been having a perfectly good discussion about… _sleep, or something. What does it matter? He'll always see my as 'you lot', too young, and he's old. Forget it._ But it was hard to forget it, especially when they were alone. He looked so….like….. Remus-y, and only Tonks seemed to know what she meant by that. Days earlier, when she had finally confided in Tonks about how her insides felt around him and how much she remembered Remus after he'd left a room, it had felt alright. It had felt more than alright, to finally tell someone what she thought. Hermione would've informed her that it was normal for her age, and completely insignificant. But Ginny didn't _want_ it to be insignificant. Tonks had understood her, a little too well, but still it didn't help.

She watched him fixing his drink and began to travel down the same path of though, which always started with his hair and ended somewhere beneath his belt that she didn't feel right exploring in her mind. Tonks seemed to relate to her on the subject, too.

But it felt like some breech in his trust of her to think these things. He talked to her, usually when other people were around but still, he communicated with her, even a few momentary conversations about his life. She _loved_ hearing about his life. The way he told stories, underplaying his role in them yet always coming off as the savior or the most brilliant Marauder, or the sensible, cute one. She tried to emulate him, doing what she guessed he would do in situations, but it wasn't the same. She just wanted to sit with him on some comfy couch in Gryffindor commons room next to a magically set fire, and hear his stories. Not that he ever revealed much about himself, but that was another intoxicating aspect about Remus.

The only man willing to sit next to her on a couch in the commons room was Neville Longbottom and he wasn't even a man, he was by definition a boy. And a nice but annoying one at that.

Realizing that was the only voluntary male company she'd have in a week's time, she turned her attention back to Remus and let her mind wander.


End file.
